Stand and Deliver
by horxruxes
Summary: This is based off of the song River by Bishop Briggs. You, the reader, have been with Dean for a long time, but he refuses to let you hunt with him. That is until you learn how to dominate.


_Shut your mouth_

 _Baby, stand and deliver_

You were awoken by the sound of drawers shutting quickly, and someone shuffling around the room. Slowly stirring you opened your eyes and reached next to you, only to find the bed empty and cold. Confused you sat up and look across the room to see Dean ruffling through his dresser; his back turned towards you.

"Were you going to wake me up?" You said in a low voice, looking down at your hands on the white sheets.

Dean stopped immediately, and began to turn slowly. As he faced you he opened his mouth to respond until you cut him off. "Were you going to say goodbye before you left? Before you left for a _hunt_." You spat out the word, as the anger flushed across your face.

Dean walked over to the bed and sat down as he tried to explain, "Listen, I hate leaving too, but this is just how it has to be."

"How it has to be?" You cried incredulously, "I have to stay here while you and Sam get to go out and hunt. Did you ever think about how I feel being left at home everytime something comes up?"

"We need you here. You know that. Besides, you haven't been on a hunt in years, it's safer this way. I need you safe." Dean said quietly.

He was right. It had been years since your last hunt. You and Dean had occasionally practiced in the shooting range, but hunts were different. Dean had a point, but it was the point that upset you.

"So take me on this hunt. That way I can get back into, Dean, I want to hunt with you. Please." You reached out and grasped his arm, begging him.

"I'm sorry," Dean started, "Sam and I need you here." Dean leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead. You loosened your grip on his arm, and he stood up to grab his bag. Dean started towards the door, and turned around to face you, "Come on, Sam will want to fill you in on the details."

You slowly pushed yourself off of the bed and meandered to the mirror. Your hair was a mess and bedraggled. "Whatever…"

You walked into the library with your steaming cup of coffee, still in your pajamas you walked over towards the table to see what Sam had on his computer. You ignored the stares from Dean, as you read Sam laptop.

"Hey Y/N! Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed" Sam chuckled to himself as he set his bag on the table.

"Yeah, something like that." You shot a glare towards Dean, and slowly moved towards Sam. "So, Sam… Do you think I could tag along on this one?"

Sam glanced towards Dean, "I… Uh… I'm not sure that's a good idea, Y/N."

You blew out a sigh of annoyance, and slumped into the nearest chair. You knew exactly what Sam would say next.

"Besides, we need you here for research." Sam added. You scoffed at the word 'research'

"Yeah sure, research, where I just sit around and wonder who I'm going to get a phone call from this time." You were upset that neither of them wanted you around, as usual. "Whatever, I need to shower."

As you sauntered out of the room you heard Sam ask Dean, "What's up with you two?" You rolled your eyes and darted into the hallway before you could hear Dean respond.

After your long, hot shower, you got dressed, grabbed a bowl of cereal, and plopped yourself in front of the TV determined to vegetate for the day. After marathoning multiple episodes of _Game of Thrones_ you glanced over at you phone:

Dean Winchester:

"Hey baby, we just got into town. I'll call you tonight after we do some interviews."

You breathed out a breath of relief and annoyance. At least he texted you, but then again it was only to try to make it up to you.

After several more hours of binge-watching you decided you wanted to shoot something. You went into the kitchen to grab a beer, or two, and headed off to to the shooting range. You always felt so much better after a session in the shooting range, but then again Dean was always with you.

As you were reloading the clip on the gun you were shooting your phone began to ring. It was Dean calling as he promised earlier. You turned back to the range, raised the gun, and fired repeatedly covering the sound of your phone ringing

One Voicemail:

"Uh… Hey Y/N, I just wanted to talk for a minute, but I guess you're busy. Anyways, I think this is going to be a quick one, we should have it all taken care of by tomorrow night, and we'll head home whenever we're done. That's all for now, I guess, so I'll talk to you tomorrow."

One measly text and a weak voicemail, and Dean Winchester thought he was in the clear with you. However, you had other ideas…

Sam had told you exactly when they were expected to arrive at the bunker. You had the whole thing planned. Methodically you destroyed the library; broke a few lamps, launched book after book on the ground, overturned chairs littered the area. Next you slipped into your sexiest lingerie, a black lacy babydoll that you knew Dean couldn't resist. You dolled yourself up making your hair a sexy mess. Now you had to mentally prepare yourself, or drink as much to numb any anxiety you could feel and then some. Once you had drunk yourself satisfied, you grabbed a chair from the library, dragged it to the room you shared with Dean, and perched yourself on it.

You hadn't been waiting long when you heard Dean cry, "Y/N! Where are you? We're home!" And once Sam and Dean saw the mess you had made you heard a, "What the hell?!" After a moment Dean burst into the room where you had been waiting.

"Y/N, what the hell are you…" Dean's voice trailed off when he saw what you were wearing. "What are you doing?"

You cracked a smile and ran a hair through your hair slowly, as Dean looked up and down your scantily clad body. "Dean, I think it's about time I run things around here." You said in a low voice.

Dean slowly closed the door behind him, unable to take his eyes off you. He swallowed hard and surmised, "So, this is about the hunt?" He moved closer to you as you stood up with your legs wide apart.

Dean began moving in, closing the space between the two of you, as he got closer he whispered, "If you want to hunt, then I think we can sort an arrangement…" His voice trailed off as his hand reached up to run the length of your arm.

You smiled, it was working. "One rule: Shut your mouth. Baby, stand and deliver."

As soon as the words left your lips Dean crashed his down onto them. You opened your mouth and let him snake his tongue into your mouth. He methodically ran his hands down your sides, and gripped your hips. You reached your hand into his hair, and twisted your fingers into his hair. Placing one hand on his neck you pushed him towards the bed.

Pointing to the bed you commanded, "Come on. Let's go."

Dean willingly threw himself onto the bed, and you climbed ontop of him straddling his waist. You leaned over him and pressed hard kisses into his lips, as he ran in hands up and down your sides. You moved to remove his shirt, and kissed down his chest and stomach, letting your teeth graze his skin.

As you reached the top of his jeans your placed a hand on his belt buckle causing Dean to emit a low moan, knowing what was next. You slowly undid his belt, and undid the zipper centimeter by centimeter. You place your hands on the waistband of his jeans, and slowly and tantalizingly pulled his jean down until his boxers were revealed. You could see his hardness outlined by the underwear. Every inch defined.

You looked back up at Dean who was staring at you in anticipation, and with a quick wink you bent your head down and placed your mouth on his hard member through his boxers. Dean groaned in pleasure, and you smiled to yourself. He was whipped. He was yours.

Realizing your work was done you sat back up, and rolled onto the other side of the bed. Dean looked back at you confused, "What… what are you doing?"

You smirked at him and got off the bed. With no response you began stripping off your babydoll. However, contrary to what Dean thought would happen next, you reached into your closet and threw on a thin camisole and your pajama shorts. Turning back to face Dean, who looked more confused than you had ever seen him before, you shot him a wink a strolled out of the room.


End file.
